


Autographs and Stress Relief

by RLandSBindaclub



Category: Doctor Who, victoria - Fandom
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut, friendly blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 13:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RLandSBindaclub/pseuds/RLandSBindaclub
Summary: Tom Hughes is signing stressfully. And Jenna Coleman wants to fix that. Shameless smut.





	Autographs and Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> [ this is an AU, and therefore I got a little creative with scenarios. obviously, do with it what you will, and use some imagination . ]

It was a fairly straightforward arrangement. Jenna Coleman and Tom Hughes were simply flatmates. Sharing their own little place. It proved to be quite an alright set up. Both of the two were single, both of the two rarely ever got to have the time to manage their own home. And given that both were hardworking actors, on and off sets, it proved to be quite useful. And so, it was in a secluded little street, full of nice little neighbours and high garden fences that they rented a house. Not too big, but big enough to allow them their own space. Two bathrooms, three bedrooms; along with a living room, a back room, a kitchen, a loft - other such rooms were included. They even had a fairly sized garden. Of course, on those lazy days when neither had any projects and neither wanted to be sociable, they took to laying in the sun in scarce amounts of clothing, soaking up the rays of sunlight that warmed them as they lounged about in each other's company. 

It was one specific night, however, that crossed their usual boundaries. 

"Hey, Tom ..." Jenna smiled as she entered the back room. Usually it wasn't too cluttered. Of course, there were scripts scattered here and there, none more so than on the desk that they regularly took turns in using as a means of using a more professional approach to their line learning (though Tom, as odd as he was, sometimes learned them in the bath.) But that day, Jenna felt as though her dreams and nightmares had came together in a bubble burst of reality. Littered all about the place; the desk, the floor, every inch of space that obeyed the laws of gravity - was completely papered in Tom's beautiful face, or parts of his work he'd done in the past. She wasn't quite sure what he was doing. None of it was organised in the slightest. "What in God's names goin' on here?" 

Poor Tom was sat scribbling frantically on picture after picture with a luminous metallic sharpie marker, his wrist curving in the signature way it did to form his autograph. He looked terribly stressed, and he didn't respond to her question in the heartily banter he usually did. "I'm busy, Jenna." 

It was clear to her that this was some form of torture that the company had decided to inflict on him, as if punishment for some reason or other. Signing autographs was both a good and bad thing of acting - people cared enough to want a scrap that you wrote your own name on, but sometimes it could be too much. Especially when signing the same symbol over and over again 500 times.

A bemused smirk on her face, she began approaching him slowly. She didn't wear anything particularly fancy; it was the evening, and so therefore, she was snugly clad in a pair of pyjamas. They were a light aqua blue, the pyjama top being a low cut one with lace decoration near the top hem and skinny straps over her shoulders. With it were baggy pyjama bottoms of a matching colour. Of course, she didn't wear her bra to bed. Who ever did? It was bad enough having to wear one during the morning and afternoon. Nobody would see her, anyway.

Except Tom.

Speaking of the fellow, as she made her way closer to the desk, she herself was no match for the level of comfort he was dressed in. A plain grey shirt and regular trousers with a belt was all he wore, adding a splash of colour with striped socks that were purple, yellow and green (though the stripes were black). 

She sat on the edge of his desk, on the side of his left arm, picking up a photo that hadn't yet been signed. "They really do enjoy milking it, don't they?" She joked softly, referring to the pictures. Tom's unexpected response was to snatch the photograph from her hands, sighing. 

"'M really not in the mood for jokes," he muttered miserably as he scribbled out his name lazily, almost like a clockwork version of himself - a routine of finding a photo, signing it, and throwing it aside. "I feel grumpy."

A little smirk spread across Jenna's face as she leant close to his ear. "Well, what are you in the mood for, hmm?" She teased playfully. It was always in their nature to flirt that way. Nothing ever became of the flirting, it was just another twisted little way of them showing their friendly affections. 

"Seriously, Jen. I'm really busy." 

She let out a sigh as her huge brown eyes rolled, shaking her head. "Tom Hughes, you are stressed." She pulled his pen away from him, and, without thinking, put it in the only convenient place she could.

Between her breasts. 

"Oh, come on, what're you doing, I don't have time for this."

"You'll have to come n' get it!" She laughed victoriously. "Honestly, Tom. Your hair'll be falling out of you don't lighten up." 

He didn't even crack a smile as he carefully yet quickly gripped the tip of his pen and pulled it back. It was warm, much warmer than his firm grip ever could make it. Although he had many times thought of where the pen had been (mainly during times in the shower, or in bed, with his hand around his cock and her name on his lips), he didn't bother to do so this time. 

Jenna wanted to help. Of course she wanted to be of some use. He was one of her closest friends, of not, her closest. She'd tried joking, but it didn't work. Tried flirting, and that was a loss. He wouldn't be in the mood for eating at this time, either. What else was there to do? It was hopeless.

Unless ...

She could've gotten a wrong signal. But she did notice that, despite his own pen still in his hand at the time, Tom's eyes had been quite drawn to a certain area of her body that was in view. Yes, of course, for most men it was only a natural reaction, but Jenna had gazed into those gorgeous liquid sapphire eyes for almost every minute she could in the day. She knew things. And she knew exactly how to cheer him up, in that moment. 

She didn't exchange any words as she stood up from the desk, dropping to her knees fluidly and wedging herself between him and the desk by pulling his chair out a little, hearing it creak and hearing his pen stop for a moment to study what she did. 

He was clearly befuddled with her actions, too confused to be annoyed. "What're you doin'?"

"Cheering you up," she said monotonously, shrugging as she began unbuckling his belt. "Carry on writing."

The male didn't know what came over him, but for some reason - a sick, twisted little reason - he did nothing. He didn't try and push her away or stop her. He was curious. More than curious, he WANTED it. He wanted whatever she would be so gracious as to give to him. 

Her little hands made quick work of undoing his fastenings, unzipping his zipper as she finally freed his pants enough to find what she was looking for. 'Find' was a word she used lightly - it wasn't difficult in any way to find at all.

He was already hardening beneath his boxers and she hadn't even started yet. Though not yet completely hard, or even halfway there, he was still huge, and the lump forming in his boxers proved that. It was wonderful to see him this way. Though, she wasn't there to sit back and study him. She was there to help him.

It wasn't long before the thick shaft of his huge cock was held in her two hands, much too thick to simply fit in one little fist. Her petite mouth wrapped around his swollen tip, sucking gently before spitting on his cock in order to make his member slick. Her fist gently began to pump him slowly; almost teasingly, yet she held him tightly and applied a pressure unlike any woman before. 

And just vice versa, his reaction was something that she had never witnessed from any other man. He wasn't the typical type; the overreactions and the usual throwing the head back type of guy. He watched her, intently. Like she was a mystery and he wanted to solve her. Like she wasn't an object for pleasing him but rather a woman, an intricate woman that was in control, that could have him any way she wanted. Because other men saw her as a fuck, other men lusted for her.

To him, she was just his Jenna. 

She could see the fire in his eyes and the urge to moan that he held back as she met his gaze with her own. Her irises were like melted chocolate, swirling and tempting and luscious and passionate just as the actions she performed on him. The colours that made such a hue seemed to move with her tongue; swirling as her tongue did so on the head of his cock, horizontally upwards when it ran flat up, from the seam of his balls and along his shaft. They would flick sharply the way hers did, and seemed to flash at him whenever she popped him against her inner cheek. She was mesmerising.

When he finally began to let little noises slip, she was overwhelmed with smugness and pride. Her mouth swallowed more of his enormous length, inch by inch, feeling his tip hit the back of her throats and then slowly alternating her angle to allow him to slide down her throat. The sight of him bulging out from beneath her chin was enough to make any man practically weak, yet it was her fiddling little hands that spurred him to moan even more. They rubbed at his inner thighs and cupped his balls as her lips hit the skin of his groin, fitting him completely. 

When she withdrew for breath, his hand fell to her jaw, stroking her face softly. The marker was long gone from his grasp, her cheek replacing it. "J-Jen-" he groaned. She looked so perfect, her chin covered in her own spit as his cock glistened in the saliva in front of her, her little tongue licking her lips hungrily as she lurched forward again to kiss passionately at his shaft, open mouthed kisses and little sucks leaving her mark on him. 

"Shhh, baby ..." she whispered softly with a sweet and sultry purr, spitting on his cock once more as her fist returned to rub at him. "You like that, hm? Does that feel better?" 

He nodded with a sweet and submissive whimper, unlike his usual dominant attitude as she smirked. Her arm came to wipe her chin with the back of her hand before she moved back a little. For a moment, Tom thought she was done, but the hope he had suddenly doubled by the dozen as her fingers gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, revealing a pair of bouncing breasts, firm and perky and the perfect size. Jenna truly was a dream, with curves in all of the right places and imperfections that made her the most wonderful person he had ever known. 

"I saw you lookin' ..." she teased as she ran her tongue across her front teeth in a teasing manner, raising an eyebrow. "Hold my hair back for me ..." She whispered, guiding his hand to hold her hair in a ponytail style as she bowed her head once more to suck at his cock momentarily to lubricate his shaft. And what he surely didn't expect began to occur. 

Little Jenna sat up a little more, no longer resting on her haunches, back straight, positioning them both so his cock was wedged between those fine tits. She pushed them together with a little bite of her lip, moaning softly as she tilted her head downwards. Her lips enveloped his tip as it leaked precum, sucking gently whilst she began to move, up and down, her breasts now acting the way her first did. 

"Jenna ... hngggg -" he grunted, his head falling a little yet his gaze still remained on hers. She kept that fiery passion at all times, the hunger fuelling behind those windows to her soul, and he fucking adored it. Every second his cock was between her flesh left him closer and closer to the edge, ready to release inside her little mouth that had latched onto his tip miraculously. He kept his promise in holding her hair back, and it gave him sweet memories of their drunken night out when he had held her hair back for her when she didn't feel too good. There was nothing wrong about this. Jenna and Tom were not just friends. They were not classed as lovers. There bond was much stronger; a bond twisted yet loving, a bond so close and so rare it had no name. Because the day after such one like this was more than likely to be followed by them laying in the grass outside and staring at a starry sky, limbs entangled, or even in a stupid little dancing date as they made dinner. It made no difference that his cock fitted against her perfectly, or that she knew his sensitive spots even during the first time she touched him. They were each other's. No one could change that.

"I'm gonna cummm -" he moaned out, a swelling feeling inside of him that would soon wash over. "Hnnggg- fuck, Jen-" His thick, hot seed filled her little mouth and caused her cheeks to bulge, but she didn't nothing more but shrug and swallow it innocently, a little dripping from the corner of her mouth. In silence, they exchanged looks, a gaze so thick it was impenetrable by external forces. 

Without a word, Jenna-Louise Coleman pressed a kiss to his messy tip, a slow and sensual one, before standing from her knees, her top half still naked.

"Good luck with the autographs that you stained in your own cum ..." she whispered softly to him with a wee chuckle, before retiring to her bedroom.


End file.
